


Making War

by 4luvofbatsnwarmakeup (thewaynecondition)



Category: The Borgias
Genre: Drunkeness, M/M, Season 2 Episode 1, Sibling Incest, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewaynecondition/pseuds/4luvofbatsnwarmakeup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cesare gives Juan absolution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making War

             For all of Juan’s better efforts, the ladies of the evening’s foray held no sway with him. Each one had a charm that interested him but once the masks were removed none could keep his eye for long enough to gain a true name. Juan knew he was shallow; he prided himself on it truthfully, because how could a man be of Borgia descent without an unholy appreciation for beauty? Of course there was Cesare whose eyes seemed only useful for looking down his nose at his younger brother, or ignoring him altogether while making adoring eyes at their sister.

             Juan refused to be jealous of their Lucrezia, beautiful Lucrezia, who’d seemed distant since her return, and whose every affection no longer lay with Cesare but with some unseen Narcissus and their child. Juan could not be jealous of her, but he could hate his brother all the more for chasing after where he was so clearly being forgotten, leaving Juan pining and frustrated.

            Juan bid their mother goodnight as the festivities drew to a close; he kissed his nephew, and retired from the great hall without addressing his brother or inquiring about their long absent Pope-father.

 

            .                       .                       .                       .                       .                       .

 

            Cesare saw Lucrezia and the boy to bed before placing his mask aside. If he was honest, it felt good to be someone else, to be free of the papal restraints if only for a moment. He found himself staring at the mask for a long moment before snapping off the handle and securing it to the golden wreath tied around his dark curls. The contours of it held snug against his cheekbones, the opening shaped his eyes. Maybe this was what it felt like for their father: wearer of high hats and partaker of delicious sin. Two faced and loved all the same. It made him feel powerful, sexy.

            “What are you still doing up Brother? I thought babysitting had worn you out.”

            Juan draped himself against a pillar in the hall. His nasal drawl was slower than normal, layered in wine. His robes and hair were disheveled. Juan’s mask was gone, but Cesare remembered who he’d arrived as.

            “Have you come to make war with me Mars?” Cesare asked stepping into his brother’s space. He watched Juan’s face, the corners of his eyes squinting in suspicion, the corners of his mouth twitching, searching for a witty remark. None came.

            “I should have you whipped for your sins Mars.”

            “Which ones Brother?” Juan laughed bitterly.

            “Cheating in the games--.”

            “Sounds like you’re a sore loser.”

            “—And covetousness,” Cesare continued stepping closer still.

            Juan pressed his back against the column, but there was no room to retreat now and Cesare’s hand came down sharp against his bare thigh. Cesare covered Juan’s startled cry with one hand and lifted his brother’s assaulted leg with the other. Juan immediately hitched it on his hip forgetting altogether that he’d wanted to play petulant and dismissive. Cesare struck the lifted leg again but pressed himself against Juan to trade pain for pleasure. Juan moaned and rolled his hips.

            “Does Mars want absolution?” Cesare asked.

            Juan pushed Cesare’s hand away from his mouth and pushed forward. Cesare caught a fistful of his hair in hand and held him inches from his mouth. Juan bit his lip to keep from whining.

            “I asked you a question.”

            “Yes.”

            “Yes what?” Cesare teased. He could feel Juan’s hands grip him from behind, his raised leg pull him closer.

            “Mars wants.”

            Juan felt like his skin was going to peel off and his tongue would dry before he got it in Cesare’s mouth, but he let his brother lean in as slowly as he pleased until the true nature of their love returned: sharp, violent, and all-consuming. The fact that they could be caught flew from their minds and Cesare pressed so close the pattern of the pillar would be etched in Juan’s skin. He suckled and bit Juan’s tongue as the younger brother picked up the pace of his hips, desperate.

            Cesare reached between them, shifting Juan’s gleaming robes aside to grip his weeping manhood in a grip just this side of painful. Juan stilled his breathing as though the oxygen in the hall has become too thin to fill his lungs.

            “C-Cesare please brother. Please your eminence!”

            Cesare pulled him twice, twisting his wrist on the way up and held tightly as his brother fell apart in his arms. Cesare wiped the release on the back of Juan’s robe and stood him up properly. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his brother’s forehead.

            “You are forgiven dear brother.”

            “What about you?” Juan pressed his hand against Cesare’s ignored erection.

            “Maybe next time Mars.”

            “Next time?” Juan asked, hating the desperation in his voice.

            Cesare adjusted his mask, smirk in place.

            “I'm sure you’ll find something else to repent for.”


End file.
